


Forever yours, Tony

by quellthefire



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Falling In Love, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Tony is jealous of bucky, Tony writes letters he'll never send
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18436592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quellthefire/pseuds/quellthefire
Summary: "Cap,I’m gonna try this again. Call it a rough draft. Maybe I’ll clean this up and actually get it sent your way. How do you even mail a letter to a superhuman fugitive? If anyone could figure it out it would be me.God, you’d probably hate that I just wrote that. You always said I had an ego bigger than my father."—Tony writes letters to Steve that he'll never send. Sometimes he's angry, sometimes he's just sad, and sometimes it helps, and he falls in love just a little more.





	1. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony reflects on the past

Cap,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. Not even sure I’ll send this. Letters really aren’t my style. But they’re yours. I know you never really got the hang of email. So writing this on paper made sense at the time. 

Fuck. Scratch that. Nothing makes sense. I don’t know why I’m even trying.

\---

Cap, 

I’m gonna try this again. Call it a rough draft. Maybe I’ll clean this up and actually get it sent your way. How do you even mail a letter to a superhuman fugitive? If anyone could figure it out it would be me. 

God, you’d probably hate that I just wrote that. You always said I had an ego bigger than my father. Did you know how much that cut me inside? I think you started to see it. You stopped saying it. I always hated when people compared me to him. I think you could see how much I want to be anything other than him. 

And sometimes I’m scared I’m becoming exactly like him. 

It’s idiotic, but I half wish you were here. You knew him. Knew what he was like. Not fully, not the way I did, but maybe you could catch me. Tell me if I’m veering too much into Howard territory. Some days I can’t tell what’s really me, and what’s me running from him shadow. You never were afraid to call me on my shit. Some days I miss that. Guess today is one of those days. 

-Tony

\---

Cap, 

I’m still pissed as hell. The fact that you lied for god knows how long. Looked me in the eye and pretended you knew nothing. Fuck. I don’t get it. 

Except sometimes I think I do. Maybe you knew it would break me just a little. Maybe you were scared to own up to the truth. Maybe you care more about him than you ever cared for me. Maybe history counts more than I thought. Maybe none of this makes any sense. 

We were friends. At least I thought we were. We were friends. 

-Tony Stark. 

\---

Cap,

Fuck you. Fuck you and fuck Bucky Parent Killer Barnes. 

You were my friend. And you chose him. 

\---

Cap, 

I don’t know why I keep trying. I should just stop torturing myself trying to write this goddamn letter that I know I’ll never send. 

But somehow it makes things a little easier. When I can feel my chest caving in and the world goes blurry I think about what I’d write to you. And it helps. 

I hate that it helps. I hate that I miss you. You always loved telling me when I screwed up, when my calculated risks had some poor math behind them. I always hated when you were right. Most times you were right. 

I miss you. 

-Tony

\---

Cap, 

Sometimes I think about calling. It’s always on me. One time I thought I had lost the phone. It had slipped out of my pocket and I didn’t notice for hours. And then suddenly it wasn’t there, and I had fucked up. And it felt like the world was crashing in.

That’s pretty messed up, isn’t it? But I guess I’ve always been pretty messed up myself. It’s one of the few things we could agree on. 

Why? Why did you lie? What made you throw everything away for a man you hadn’t seen in 70 some years? I’m not sure I really want to know. 

-Tony

\---

Steve, 

This has become a bit of a habit. When I’m stressed I’ve started composing letters in my head. Sometimes it’s just shouting. Sometimes I say things I could never put on paper. And sometimes I write it down. Like now. 

I always did like to rile you up. The way your neck would rise with heat. And your jaw would lock into place. And the vein in your temple that would pulse. I still see it now. See the way you’d square your shoulders, straighten your back. I guess old habits die hard. You always looked like a soldier in that moment. Not the Captain everyone else knew you to be. 

I don’t know why I liked getting under your skin so much. 

I mean, I know, but fuck. We don’t need to delve too deep into that. It’s already fucked up enough that I’m writing these to you even though you'll never read them. 

A you that maybe never really existed. I don’t know who the Steve I knew was. Maybe he’s different from Bucky’s Steve. Maybe none of them are the real you. 

-Tony

\---

Steve, 

I had a dream last night that you were dying. You were dying and I couldn’t do anything to save you. That’s how it feels most days. Like I’m dying and I can’t do anything to save me. You were always the better one at saving people. 

-Tony 

\---

Steve, 

I like to imagine you’d get these some day. Some well meaning historian would find these letters years after my death and would show them to you. And they’d probably write a whole book about my secret letters and the insight into our relationship they offer. 

Guess I wouldn’t mind that. I’d be dead so it wouldn’t really affect me. I’ve been thinking more about what I’d write if I were actually mail you something. But that’s too much to process. So instead I’ll just keep writing to the Steve in my head. My Steve. 

Yours, Tony

\---

Steve,

Sometimes I think about the way your hands looked when you made coffee in the morning. The assured way you’d scoop the grounds and the way they flexed as you leaned against the counter, breathing in the smell. You always made it way too weak, and drowned it in sugar and cream. 

But you’d hand me a cup, and I was always grateful, because it meant I didn’t have to mess with that stupid machine that would get clogged half the time. You stopped me from ripping apart the coffee machine more than once to rebuild it. And that was probably for the best. I absolutely would have overloaded it with special settings. 

Sometimes I think about your what your hands would feel like. Reaching out to touch mine. Holding my face. Grasping my hips. I don’t think I was ready to admit that before. To admit how I feel. Felt. No, feel. 

Fuck. I can’t handle writing this out. It’s too much. It’s..

\---

Steve, 

Hey, it’s me again. Your friendly neighborhood fuck up. You always did like to remind me. 

Only sometimes you’d smile at me in those hours long meetings, when Fury was really going in on us on how much of a disappointment we were to him. You’d smile, and I knew you were thinking the same thing as me. And I fell a little bit in love with that smile. Love. I don’t know if that’s what it was, but it sure felt like that. Still does. 

Yours, Tony

\---

Steve,

I hope you’re having a good day. I remembered how you used to make peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, and Clint would mock you endlessly. I don’t think any of them realized that it was nostalgia that made you like them. You remembered eating them as a kid. It reminded you of what your life used to be like. 

Maybe one day something will remind you of what your life used to be like when I was in it. 

What will my pickle and peanut butter sandwich be? I hope it’s black coffee. I always did love the way you scrunched your nose up when I offered you a taste. 

What I wouldn’t give to see that one last time. 

Yours, Tony

\---

Steve, 

One of these days I might finally send something. One of these days I might stop writing these. I can’t decide which would be less painful. 

So for now, I’ll keep writing. And I’ll keep filing them away, in that box you liked so much. The one with the silver clasp. 

And I’ll keep dreaming about you. Wishing I could talk to you. Could apologize for what I said. Maybe one day I’ll stop feeling so goddamn awful. And maybe you’d apologize too. 

Until then, I’ll keep writing. And wishing things were different. 

Forever yours, Tony


	2. The Text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's been trying to get some things off his chest too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read the first part and asked me to write a follow up! You all seriously inspire me to keep writing. I hope this does Steve justice.

_12:51 AM_

Dear Tony,

Wait, I forgot people don’t write ‘dear’ at the beginning of a text message. I know you were teasing me, but I’m regretting that I refused to let you teach me Text Skills 101. This would probably be a lot less embarrassing if I had let you. 

I’d rather be writing this on paper, but you’d probably think it old fashioned. So I’m trying. I’m trying to show that I can change. That I can admit when I’m wrong. 

I’m sorry. Not for everything. But for enough. 

-Steve

_unsent_

—-

_8:23 AM_

Tony, I couldn’t bear to send the text message I wrote, so I’m trying this again. Maybe I’ll get it right this time. Maybe I’ll be able to fix things. Most of the time I worry we’re too broken to be fixed. But I think it’s worth trying. I hope it’s worth trying. God. I hope it is. 

-Steve

_unsent_

—-

_7:30 PM_

Today I saw you on the news. Some filler story about your ongoing green initiative. You looked happy. Are you happy? I hope you are. 

But a part of me hopes you miss me too. I know that’s selfish. I know you don’t owe me that. But I still hope. 

I don’t know how to begin to explain everything. But I hope one day you’ll let me try. 

-Steve

_unsent_

—-

_12:44 AM_

You know what the worst part of this is? Sometimes I’ll wake at night and want to call. Not to talk about anything that matters. No, sometimes I miss just talking. You always knew how to get on my bad side. But I even miss that. I miss you being right sometimes. I miss being friends. Because you were right. You were one of my only friends. And I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. 

I don’t know why I keep writing these. I never send them. Maybe one day I’ll be able to actually hit send. Today is not that day. It won’t be that day for a while. 

-Steve

_unsent_

—-

_5:10 PM_

I like to imagine you’re drinking your first cup of coffee right now. It’s mid morning in New York right now. You’re probably just crawling out of bed after a long night in your workshop. I used to make you coffee. Do you miss that? You always made fun of me for drinking more milk and sugar than coffee. But I secretly liked it. I liked that you noticed things like that. I liked that coffee was our thing. 

-Steve 

_unsent_

—-

_7:14 PM_

You haven’t called. Did you forget about the phone? Did you chuck it in a drawer and wish you could forget? I think about this a lot. Have you moved on? Or does it haunt you the way it does me. Perhaps the answer is both. One day I’ll be able to forget for stretches at a time. One day it won’t hurt quite so much to think about. But that seems an awful long ways off. One day I won’t remember the exact look in your eyes the very last time I saw you. Maybe that would be a blessing. But I don’t think I want to forget. I need to remember. I felt so assured in that moment that I was doing the right thing. But then I met your eyes, and that confidence wavered.

You always knew how to draw me back from the edge. You knew how to push me right up to that point, and pull me back. I half hated you for it, but it’s what I needed. I needed to be reminded that I’m capable of mistakes. 

I can’t decide if everything that happened between us was a mistake. Maybe we were destined to end on these terms. We certainly were headed down this path. But know that I regret how it ended. When I needed you to pull me back, needed you most of all, you pushed me over the edge. Guess I always thought you’d be the one to stop this in the end. Guess I was wrong.

-Steve

_unsent_

\---

_6:22 AM_

I know you thought I was choosing Bucky over you. I guess in that moment you weren’t wrong. But in my head there was no you vs. him. There was just me, always trying to protect my friends. And when the world was coming after Bucky, I did what I always do, and looked after him. 

I thought I could do both. Protect him from the world and protect you from the knowledge of what happened to your parents. From what they made Bucky do. But I guess not even my best intentions can make up for what happened. For the pain I inflicted on you. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever stop apologizing. Maybe one day I can say it to your face. Maybe one day I won’t need to apologise anymore. But for now, I hope you know I’m sorry.

Love, Steve

_unsent_

\---

_1:56 AM_

Sometimes I still have nightmares. The image of your face flashes through my mind. The pain. The anger. The hurt. That I caused. 

I always thought myself a smart man, not the brightest, but I could get by. And then I met you. And you dazzled me. Your greatest weapon always was your mind, Tony. And I’m realizing more and more each day what an idiot I am. 

I wouldn’t take it all back. I did what I had to to protect Bucky, to keep him safe, but I’d take back the lies. I’d take back the pain. 

God what an idiot I’ve become.

Love, Steve

_unsent_

\---

_4:01 PM_

Do you remember the late nights when everyone else was asleep and you’d drag yourself out of your workshop? We’d meet in the hallway, or the kitchen, and you’ve give me that soft, sleepy smile. The one that felt real. No mask of confidence or cockiness. Just you and me, standing in the dim light of the open fridge, as we rooted around looking for something to eat. Your shoulder would bump into me, or your strong, calloused hands would graze mine, and I could feel a thrill run through me each time. 

That was real, wasn’t it? No pretenses, no alter ego to hide behind. That was the real you, in those late nights when your hair was rumpled and you had grease stains on your shirt. In those moments I could see a future. I could see you.

Love, Steve

_unsent_

\---

_3:59 AM_

It’s hard to reconcile the people we truly are with the heroes the world sees. I wanted you to see the shiny, glossy exterior. I couldn’t admit that until now. I couldn’t bear to let you know who I am under everything. Just a scared, broke boy from Brooklyn, who thought he had to beat up bigger bullies because it was easier than confronting his own demons.

You’ve made me a better person, Tony. Knowing you, being friends with you--hell, loving you, has made me a better person.  
I can’t begin to apologize for everything that happened in a single text. But know that I’m sorry. Know that it keeps me up every night. Know that I would take back so many things if I could.

I hope one day you can begin to forgive me. I hope one day you’ll give me the opportunity to choose you.

Love always, Steve

_SENT_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna sit with this ending for a while. I can't decide if there's more story that needs to be told, but I'm pretty damn pleased with it so far. I hope you are too!

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by @hispeculiartreasure on tumblr, who did a handwriting request ask series. @lilcutekittykat had sent in "All my love, Steve" and it immediately made me think of the line "Forever yours, Tony" and I knew I needed to write this.
> 
> un-beta'd because I wanted to get it posted quickly. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments feed my hungry ego and make me so happy.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
